


Brothers

by Kaytoko



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 03:03:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaytoko/pseuds/Kaytoko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle for Earth is over. Back in Asgard, the realm eternal, Loki struggles with understanding the true meaning of "family". Six-part drabble series focusing on Loki's redemption as a son of Odin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have seen the Avengers one too many times already, and every time I watch it, I can't help but be drawn to the magnetic relationship between Thor and Loki as brothers. I couldn't resist writing this. Originally written on ff.net right after I saw the movie for the first (four) times. Six-part series focusing on Thor and Loki's relationship as brothers, post Avengers.

_Brothers_

Loki sat against the frame of the window, looking out on a familiar scene he didn't think he'd have the privilege of ever seeing again. The golden spires of Asgard glittered in the dying sunlight, the colors of the sunset giving way to the stars and galaxies that dotted the edge of the greatest realm within the branches of Yggdrasil. His eyes traces the path of the rainbow bridge, lingering at the jagged edge that hung precariously over the edge. He recalled the flash of the bridge exploding under Thor's hammer, the pain flaring through his chest as he fell against the broken shards, his stomach plummeting as he fell beyond grasp of the bridge. 

 He recalled the look in Odin's eyes as he stared him down. The disappointment that rocked his soul. The pain, the sadness, the _hopelessness_. He didn't want to face that anymore, so he let go. He let go of the life he knew, the family he loved and the realm he called home. He let go of them all without a single hope that he would get them back. Betrayal stung at his soul and burned at his mind. As he fell away from the realm eternal, he was struck with a painful realization. He didn't _want_ to go back. He didn't want to be looked at like a traitor to Asgard, or like the monster that every single Asgardian knew him to be. So he ran.

His emotions stewed in a bubbling pool of hate, hurt and sadness for what seemed like eternity until he gave in to the insanity dancing on the edge of his mind. He let his darker thoughts pull him deeper into his despair, allowing them to drag him down a path he couldn't return from. He was ruthless and felt little sympathy for the world he wrought pain and destruction. He was a God among ants, and he should be treated as such. Yet, he felt his determination waver as he stared into the eyes of his once-was brother, pleading for him to return home. Return to Asgard. A tiny, innocent part of him still wanted to accept Thor's request and return to everything that he once knew, but he squashed the feeling. 

"It's too late," he had said, and he meant it. He saw the hurt in Thor's blue eyes, but he turned away from the feeling bubbling in his chest. _Sentiment_. Sentiment was nothing but a weakness to him at that point. 

And yet, despite all his efforts, he was thwarted again. For a second time, he tasted triumph upon his lips, only to have the decadent drink ripped from his hands. The ants had risen up and taken down his army, and as he stared up at the angry faces that pulled him down from his pedestal, the _Avengers_ , he could only chuckle darkly. Was he so weak that he could let such pathetic creatures defeat him in his plight for conquest? Or did he ever really want any of this to begin with? For what reason did he chose _Earth_ of all places to make his, knowing that there were such forces present to defend its lands? In retrospect, he couldn't justify his actions. Not like he used to. He didn't fight them as they placed cuffs upon his wrists and a muzzle over his mouth. He avoided Thor's sad stare as they stood side by side, preparing to return to Asgard. He needed no pity. Sentiment was a weakness. 

He expected to be put in the deepest dungeons below Asgard for his treachery. He deserved no less. But when his feet touched back down upon Asgardian soil, his handcuffs were removed. Thor had clapped a big hand down upon his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

"It is good to have you home, brother," he had said. Loki couldn't even lift his eyes from his boots. 

His once-mother and father came to greet them as well, Frigga's arms encircling his thin waist without a moment's hesitation. He stared helplessly into her curled dusty blonde hair, shame rushing through him so thickly he couldn't even breathe. He couldn't bare to meet the Allfather's intimidating gaze. Not that Odin was giving him a look of contempt; only one of sadness, disappointment, and a touch of relief. 

Loki didn't understand. He wanted them to _hate_ him. He wanted them to loathe his very being like he had loathed them. He didn't _want_ to return to the loving arms of a family that betrayed him. He didn't want to face the truth that stared him point-blank in the face. 

They didn't send him to the deepest dungeons of Asgard. They didn't even lock him up. Frigga merely led him back to his old rooms, reminding him softly of when dinner would be. He didn't respond to her. He didn't even look at her when she left. He merely stared at the familiar set up of his room, retracing the pathways he had walked so many years before. Nostalgic memories stuck poisoned barbs into his heart. He couldn't help but think that a prison cell would have been more comforting to him. 

He didn't leave his room. He realized that he was still under supervision by Asgardian guards, and he was sure the tesseract was stored away somewhere that he was unaware of, if just to keep his mischievous hands away from it's awe-inspiring power. Once or twice, he toyed with the idea of stealing it again and leaving Asgard for good, but the thought never stuck. He was tired. Physically and emotionally. 

Frigga visited often, and even though he never responded, she carried on familiar conversations with him. It hurt his heart to think that she missed him as much as she did. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't hate his mother. She never once said as much, but he couldn't help but feel like he had failed her. He didn't deserve her company, or her forgiving love. 

Thor visited just as often. It was easier for Loki to deal with his once-brother. A few choice words usually had the bumbling oaf leaving the room to restore his peace. In the quiet after Thor's visit, Loki would worry that he had finally said too much and that Thor would finally see him for the monster he was born to be. He hid the breath of relief that always came when Thor returned the following day. 

This day, Thor was late. He always came before the fall of the sun, but the glittering orb of light was already dipping behind the edge of the horizon, allowing the galaxies and stars to overtake the skies. Loki stared out his window, waiting on pins and needles for the soft knock he expected to come. The knock didn't come until much later. There was a shuffle of a cape along the floor, and the solid thump of the heavy door closing. Loki didn't turn away from the window.

"You're late," he commented. 

"I did not realize you were expecting me now," Thor responded. He didn't move from his spot near the door. Loki hid the breath of relief at the sound of his brother's -- _once-_ brother's-- voice. 

"I just know you to be a routine creature. It is most unusual for you to be late," he countered swiftly. Silence pulled between them. Loki turned an uncomfortable eye Thor's way. The God of Thunder watched him sadly. 

"Why do you persist to remain in your chambers?" he asked. "We do not hold you here against your will. Do you think yourself imprisoned?" 

Loki turned away. "I may as well be."

Thor stepped forward. "It is not what we intended--" 

"And why not?" Loki interrupted, facing Thor with a poisonous glare. "Have you fools forgotten what I have done? The people I manipulated, the worlds I attempted to destroy? Why in the name of Yggdrasil would you, _any_ of you, want me to return to Asgard as a _free_ man?" 

Thor remained where he stood, his expression calm and infuriatingly understanding. "We shall not judge you by your past mistakes." 

"This is not a game, Thor," Loki spat. "For the things I have done, I should be locked away for the rest of eternity. And yet, I stare at the sky of Asgard every night from the window of _my own_ _room_. The Allfather must finally be going insane in his old age for allowing a criminal from three of the nine realms to dine at his dinner table with him." 

Thor frowned. "You know that is not true." 

"Which part?" Loki jeered. "The part about the Allfather or my criminal record? Because I may have miscounted how many realms I managed to offend in the last year." 

"Enough!" Thor stormed over to where Loki sat, his face contorted with semi-controlled anger. "I do not wish to hear this from you, brother."

" _Brother,_ " Loki sneered nastily. "What a hollow and useless term you naïvely hold on to. We do not share any blood bonds. We are not _brothers_." 

"But we _are_ \--"

"In your mind!" Loki snapped. "There is no _us_! There is no _we_! You are not my brother. You never were."

Thor looked stricken. He struggled to find words for his thoughts. "You may not believe so," he said thickly. "But I have never once thought of you otherwise. Who are you but not my brother?"

"A monster," Loki responded hollowly, turning away to cast a forlorn look across Asgard. "A lustful, blood-thirsty monster." 

"I do not believe so," Thor said softly. 

"Then you are a fool," the darker God responded. Silence permeated the room between them. Thor took a step forward, his hand extended for Loki's shoulder.

"Leave." 

Thor's hand froze. "Loki--" 

" _Leave_." 

The God of Thunder sighed, reluctantly allowing his hand to fall away. Loki stared out his window, not truly looking at anything as he listened to Thor's heavy footsteps as they retreated for the door. He heard the wood creak as the door opened, Thor pausing in his exit. 

"At least come to dinner tomorrow. It will make mother happy." 

Loki didn't respond, and Thor left him in silence. 


	2. Chapter 2

Loki stared at his door for hours. Thor and Frigga ceaselessly encouraged him to leave his room, if only for dinner. He ignored their requests for the most part, but the thought lingered in his mind. A more innocent part of him longed to join his family for dinner, but he refused to let that part of him bow down to their wishes. He figured that was what they wanted. For him to just crumble under their "love" and return to the life they once had. Loki wasn't foolish. He knew things would never be the same, regardless if he wanted them to be or not. Yet, despite his iron hold on his decision to distance himself from his once-family, his eyes still lingered on the wood of the door. 

The thought of willingly sitting at the dining table with them made a curl of nervousness settle within his stomach. In the past, Thor carried the conversations through their meals, uncaring if anybody listened or not to his stories. Odin would often times give commentary to Thor's tales, if just to keep the conversation going. Loki spent most of his time silently listening, enjoying his meal and his brother's antics. Their routine was a comfortable one; one that nobody actively attempted to change. But now… Now the idea of sitting at the table with them made Loki feel so very bare. Every silence would be tense with anticipation of his next move, his next word. He would be completely vulnerable. No part of that dinner sounded inviting. 

And yet, his mind would continuously recall the hopeful look in Frigga's eyes as she reminded him about dinner during her visits. He hated that he intentionally disappointed her night after night, but his mind would sardonically remind him that it should have been expected. He was already such a disappointment. 

This night, Loki was on his feet. He wasn't pacing-- not yet, at least-- but he stood facing his door, thinking, debating. After nearly two weeks secluded within his room, he was starting to feel the effects of self-imprisonment. Sleep eluded him, distractions were few and far between, and the thoughts running through his head were starting to irritate him. As much as he hated the idea, Frigga and Thor were right about him needing to leave his room once in a while. 

Yet, he was anxious, in a rather unsettling way. He decided that he would much rather face the rage of every Chitauri he scorned than sit at a dinner table across from Odin. He hadn't heard anything about the King of Asgard since his return, and Odin made no attempt to visit him. He was mostly relieved that the Allfather hadn't come, but a small part of him worried endlessly over the reason _why_. Perhaps, Odin, unlike Thor and Frigga, _hadn't_ wanted him to return. Perhaps his prescence at the Royal dining table would be more unwanted than he imagined. He was temped to forgo his foolish endeavor and keep to the solitude in his room, but he had made it this far already, and his basic need for sustenance was starting to outweigh his pride. 

Loki took a few, silent steps toward the door, hesitating as he reached to press his fingers against the cool metal of the handle. He closed his eyes, willing his racing pulse into a relative calm before opening the door. The two guards stationed by his door reacted to his exit, taking a few, distrustful steps away from him. Loki kept a straight face as he observed them. Their fear of him was nearly transparent. 

"Worry not, my friends," he said in a calm voice. There was a touch of coldness to his tone that he couldn't quite hide, a hint of his anger toward their reactions that he wanted them to be aware of. "I merely require sustenance. Follow me if you must, but I swear to you that I only intend to go to the dining hall." 

He waited a beat for their responses. Both men narrowed their eyes suspiciously, but said nothing. Uncaring if they had anything else to say, he turned away, heading down the magnificent hallway. 

Loki kept to the shadows, avoiding the gaze of those he passed. He kept his fingers clenched within the confines of his palm, hoping that the pressure would keep them from shaking. The closer he came, the more nervous his heart fluttered in his chest. He stopped before the entrance, straining to hear the distant voices of his once-family. He heard the low thrum of Thor's voice, followed closely by an older, more stern voice. Loki took three deep breaths, then stepped forward. 

Frigga was the first to see him, only because she was facing his way. She stood from her chair swiftly, breathing out his name. Loki froze in his spot by the entrance, suddenly unable to move as Thor and Odin turned to look as well. 

"Brot-- Loki," Thor exclaimed. "You came."

"Not for the company, I assure you," he responded. He nearly regret saying such a phrase as Odin's one good eye made contact with his own. There was a wary sadness to his gaze that struck Loki straight through. He swallowed thickly, quickly avoiding Odin's look. Frigga quickly stepped away from the table, encouraging her youngest son to come over.

"Regardless of your reason, we are glad to have you, Loki," she said, placing a delicate hand upon his arm. He allowed his expression to soften a bit at her touch, and didn't fight as she led him over to the table. He took up a silent seat beside Frigga, ignoring Thor's semi-hurt look that he didn't take up his usual seat beside him. His once-mother filled his plate for him, an act that he could easily do himself, but he didn't want to deny her the chance to dote upon him if she wished. 

He took a delicate bite of his meal, ignoring the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air. Thor made a low sound, his chair scraping loudly in the quiet as he returned to his seat. He took a few, noisy bites of his own dinner. Frigga frowned at the tension, placing her fork down beside her plate. 

"I hope your room is how you like it," she said softly, trying to instigate conversation. Loki cast a glance at her, nodding shortly. Odin and Thor remained silent as well. Frigga sighed softly. "Your horse has been well-fed and groomed in your absence." Silence. "I made sure to that. I know you always loved riding him. Why don't you take him out for a ride later? It could help." 

Loki nodded mutely at her idea. Riding sounded wonderful to him, but it was the last thing on his mind. Even without looking, he could see the tenseness in the way Odin sat at the head of the table, the way he merely picked at his food. Thor kept shooting him worried glances between bites of his meat. He was unusually polite in the undertaking of his meal, avoiding unnecessary stress. Not that Frigga would have spared the moment to chastise her eldest son's horrid table manners. She was too busy trying to make Loki comfortable. He was grateful for her attempts, but it was shining more attention on him than he wanted. 

"Since you haven't left your room much, I suppose you wouldn't know that we've started rebuilding the Bifrost," Frigga continued. "The tesseract has been much help--" 

"Frigga," Odin said sharply, interrupting her. The sound of the Allfather's voice sent a spark straight through Loki's chest. He attempted swallow his food calmly through his tight throat. Frigga sent her husband a withering glare. 

"Oh stop this nonsense," she scolded. "You should be ashamed of yourself. He is your son! I am merely trying to make him comfortable. Neither one of you are helping the situation." 

Thor protested, saying that he _was_ trying, but Odin remained silent. Loki stared down at his plate, fork frozen within in hand. He didn't want to hear this. He fought the temptation to just excuse himself and return to his rooms before things got more out of hand, yet he remained where he was, waiting anxiously for the Allfather's response. 

The King shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I do not wish to speak of such things right now--"

" _Odin_ ," Frigga stressed, disappointment souring her tone. 

"In good time, we shall! But I do not believe that _now_ is an appropriate time for such conversations," the Allfather continued. Frigga protested, and Thor inserted a few words here and there, but Loki remained frozen in his seat. With only a few words, he was feeling very, very cold, the shaking in his hands making a comeback. Frigga and Odin were continuing their argument when he stood fluently from his seat. 

"Excuse me," he said hollowly, refusing to look at any of them as he left the dining hall. Frigga called after him, but did not follow, choosing instead to scold Odin a time longer. Loki slipped out of the room, ignoring the bubbling emotion within him as he made a straight path back towards his room. He didn't slow his pace when he heard Thor calling after him. 

"Loki, _please_ ," Thor pleaded, catching his brother's shoulder. Loki shook off the bigger man's hand. 

"Spare me the sentimental words, Thor," he hissed, leveling a icy glare his way. "I wish to be alone."

"He does not mean what he said," Thor attempted. "You know that Father is bad with expressing how he feels." 

"Something tells me he was not hard pressed to hide his true feelings," Loki sneered. 

"You know that is not true," Thor protested. "I saw him grieve for your loss. He missed you just as much as any of us-- if not more so."

"Forgive me for finding that incredibly hard to believe."

"What I say is true, you must give him a chance!"

"And what if I choose not to?" Loki snapped back. Silence hung in the air between them. "You speak of " _family_ " and " _brotherhood_ " as if they are tangible things within my reach. I have done _unspeakable_ things, and yet you willingly take me back with open arms and taunt me with hollow promises to restore our lives to which they were before. You think that I am foolish enough to believe that any of it could be true?" His voice hitched a tone higher against his will, hot water burning at the edge of his eyes. "End this foolish game, Thor, lest you torture me longer."

He stared his once-brother down for a beat longer before turning away, escaping the moment before his emotions betrayed him. He did not need a family, and he most certainly did not need a brother. Yet the idea that he may not be worthy enough to claim such things for himself burned an angry hole in the pit of his stomach. He may not _need_ such a sentimental attachment, but something was starting to tell him that he might _want_ one.


	3. Chapter 3

Dirt and hay crunched under his boots as he walked toward the stables. It wasn't originally his plan to go riding so soon, but something pulled deep within his chest at every thought he had of the action. Frigga was right; he loved riding, especially in his younger years. His love for the activity only grew with his age, but in recent times, he had nearly forgotten the relaxing, unwinding feeling riding his horse gave him. Other, darker, things stole the forefront of his mind, pushing away his love for the simpler things in life. He frowned at the thought. 

As much as he hated it, he couldn't avoid people entirely along his walk. He made no deviations in his path, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, but he still passed seven people. Three grounds workers, two guards and a pair of gossiping maidens who fell silent as he passed by. He grit his teeth and continued on in silence as he heard their nervous whispers start up behind him, no doubt talking about his… _questionable_ heritage. 

He slipped into the stables as quietly as possible, only allowing the stablehand of his steed see him. The younger boy jumped when he saw the dark prince, dropping the horse brush he held in his hand. He stuttered a quick apology, bending down to pick up his fallen equipment. Loki ignored him for the most part, approaching his horse instead. 

The steed let out a huff of recognition, stomping its hooves in excitement. He was a beautiful stallion with an unusually dark coat, a gift from his mother from when he finally reached adulthood. The horse was a wild one, and gave the stable hands a difficult time for nearly everything. Loki felt a bit of fear of the horse at first, but saw a bit of himself within the stallion. He affectionally named him Nótt Stikla, Night Runner, and spent long days teaching his horse commands and breaking him of his wild nature. Nótt Stikla was unpredictable and stubborn, but found kinship in Loki, and the two of them became nearly unseparable. 

Seeing the excitement in his horse's eyes, Loki felt a twinge of guilt within his chest from neglecting him for so long. The dark prince lifted his hands, gently stoking the horse's jaw. The stallion bumped his nose against Loki's chest, nibbling slightly at the Asgardian's long hair. Loki forced down a smile at the horse's antics, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest.  

"It has been too long, my friend," he said quietly. The horse huffed in agreement, and Loki couldn't stop the lift of his lips. Glancing at the slack-jawed stable hand beside him, the God of mischief straightened his shoulders a bit. 

"Fetch a saddle and reigns," he told the boy. The stable hand jumped a bit at being recognized. Loki looked over at him when he didn't move. "If you would."

"R-right away," the boy squeaked, running off to fetch his saddle. Loki stood off to the side while the boy swiftly hooked the saddle into place. Usually, Nótt Stikla would give his handler trouble, but the horse had an eye for Loki that day, and behaved himself, if only because he knew that they were going out for a ride. Loki could almost feel the horse's longing for a nice long run; he felt it itching in his bones as well. As soon as the boy was finished with the saddle, Loki thanked him briefly and took Nótt Stikla by the reigns. He was only three steps outside the stables before he was mounted, spurring the horse into a run. 

He felt the stallion's powerful muscles moving beneath him, the deep breaths that the horse would take with every lope. They ran away from the spiraling spires of the castle, and out towards the endless green pastures, out of the direct sight of people. Loki closed his eyes, feeling the wind against his face. It was all so calming. He didn't realize how much he missed the exhilaration of riding. It was always a stress release for him, and he didn't realize how much he really needed one.

They ran for most of the afternoon, hardly stopping for a breath. Loki was always impressed by the stamina of Asgardian horses; there were no others like them in any of the nine realms. He had tested Nótt Stikla's true endurance once many years before, out of desperation rather than curiosity. The stallion could run for days on end before exhaustion slowed his hooves. Slowing the horse to a trot, Loki pulled up beside the ocean, waves licking the horse's hooves as it trotted along. The God of mischief dropped his hands against the saddle, letting the reigns loosen enough for Nótt Stikla to take the lead. 

Loki let his mind wander a bit as he stared out across the ocean. The stars and galaxies dotting the edge of the realm reflected upon its surface, entrancing him with their distant beauty. How many days had he spent among those stars, searching, stewing, bubbling with anger. He was always too angry, or too distracted, to appreciate their beauty. Every one held a story of its own, a place in the wide universe that that particular star could call home. 

A part of him wondered if he should even be allowed to call Asgard home, after everything he did. He allowed murderous creatures within the safe confines of Asgard. And for what? Power? Recognition? Acceptance? He childishly hung onto the idea that it all started out as a simple, harmless prank. One last trick against his brother before the relationship between them changed forever. A simple prank that spiraled dangerously out of control, ripping a rift between them as wide as the farthest branches of Yggdrasil. Even as he stood on the beaches of Asgard, once again accepted into his childhood home, he couldn't completely wrap his mind around it. He wasn't convinced that this was where he truly belonged, no matter how much his heart yearned for it to be. 

He turned his eyes away from the distant sky as the sound of hooves hitting sand caught his ear. Nótt Stikla lifted his head, ears perked as the new visitor trotted closer. Loki sighed internally and squashed the desire to run from his now arriving once-brother. Thor was perched atop his own horse, a much sturdier, thickly built tan horse that matched his personality to a tee. The tan horse tossed his head a few times as Thor pulled up beside his brother. 

"Brot-- Loki," Thor called. "I did not know you were on a ride as well!" 

Loki felt a twitch of discomfort at Thor's amendment. He realized that Thor was making an effort to call him by his name only due to how he had reacted to Thor calling him "brother" only a few weeks before. It was a conscious effort on Thor's part to keep things light between them. While he appreciated the effort, Loki wasn't sure he truly liked the amendment. It sounded… _forced._  

"How is it that you always find me when I least want you to?" Loki asked, filing away his thoughts for the time being. 

Thor cracked a grin. "It does seem as though I always do." 

"It was the same, even when we were children," Loki commented. 

Thor chuckled. "I recall a time when you tried to enchant the wings on my helmet so that it would fly me away every time I came near you."

Loki couldn't resist a low chuckle of his own at the memory. His enchantment had gone wrong. Thor's helmet flew, but never took the blonde God with it. He was so mad that things hadn't gone his way that he spent nights attempting to fix the problem, only to realize that no enchantment would be able to keep his persistent brother away from him. It was a humbling moment. Both Gods chuckled at the memory for a long moment, falling away into silence. Thor's voice was distant when he spoke again.

"We had such great times together," he said. "Every time we played, or fought together. Every triumph and victory we brought home to Asgard." Loki let the small smile on his face fall away at the memories. Every happy moment that he and Thor spent playing in the fields of Asgard, every heart-wrenching moment that Loki drug a wounded Thor from the battlefield of their enemies, hoping and praying that he hadn't lost his one and only brother. Loki averted his gaze. 

"Why did that have to change?" Thor asked softly, desperately. Loki stared out at the gently moving ocean, pondering Thor's question. 

"Things were already in motion to change, Thor," he said quietly after a while. "Even without the circumstances that led us here." 

"What do you mean?" Thor asked. Loki risked at glance his way, trying to convey the emotions churning in his soul. 

"We were drifting apart," he said slowly. "You were rising to kingship, and I was to be nothing more than a councilman to aide you in your rule. For all my life, I wanted nothing more than to be your equal. It was hard to accept that I never truly would be." He dropped his gaze. "I never realized just how hard that dream would be to achieve." 

"But… Why the Frost Giants? Why attack Asgard?" Thor was struggling to understand. 

"Pranks. Tricks that grew out of my hands and fed my foolish quest for equality," Loki said offhandedly. "I did not believe you ready to take the throne, and a foolish part of me thought that by allowing Frost Giants into the weapons vault, I could show Fath--" He choked slightly on his slip, taking a short breath to readjust. "Show the Allfather that you were not ready yet."

"But why? Why didn't you just say something?" Thor demanded. 

"Would you have listened?" Loki shot back. "For as long as I have known you, reason has not been the key for your understanding. Only action. I couldn't have known that the Allfather would cast you out for your foolhardy decision. That was never what I wanted."

"Then what did you want?" Thor asked.

Loki's voice was helplessly small when he responded, a note of desperation coloring the tone. "To _help_ you." 

Another silence pulled between them. The horses shifted uncomfortably beneath them. 

"You _did_ help me, Loki," Thor said softly. "After my time on Midgard, I have come to see that my impatience and arrogance have gotten me nowhere." 

"But that is not what I intended," Loki protested. "I never wanted a group of nameless Midgardians to help teach you the lessons you needed to learn. _I_ wanted to do that for you. _I_ wanted to be the one to help mold you into the perfect king for Asgard." He turned his face away, pushing away the wave of emotion that threatened to overcome him. "But what use are words now," he added sarcastically. 

"Words are all we have left," Thor said, reaching out to place a comforting hand upon Loki's shoulder. The darker God did not attempt to remove him. "Not once did I believe you to be as evil as you attempted to make me believe. Your good intentions always shine through your actions, regardless of how hard to try to hide them." Thor squeezed Loki's shoulder, enticing the thinner man to turn tired, wary eyes his way. "Thank you, brother. For everything you have sacrificed for me." 

Loki closed his eyes, struggling against the overwhelming desire to just breakdown before his once-brother. He squeezed his hands on the reigns clasped within them, taking slow breaths to calm himself. His voice still shook when he spoke, betraying how he truly felt inside. 

"How can you accept me for who I am? For what I've done?"

Thor let his lips form a small, genuine smile. "You're the only brother I ever had. I will always love you, even when you are being a psychopath bent on taking over a world full of tiny, pathetic humans." 

Loki let out a watery laugh. "Not so pathetic, if I recall correctly." 

Thor's smile turned into a grin. "No, I suppose not." 

Loki laughed a bit longer, taking a few deep breaths to be sure that his overwhelming emotions had passed. 

"Thank you, Thor." he said softly, meeting the blue eyes of his once-brother. No. His _brother_. "For everything." 

Thor squeezed his brother's shoulder once more before allowing his hand to drop away. "Anytime. Now please, if you are finished debating about your place in this world, Mother is beside herself waiting to see you at dinner again. I beg you on hands and knees to attend again, lest she bother me about my manners yet again."

Loki cracked a smile despite the twinge of nervousness formed in his chest. "I shall consider it."

"Consider faster! I wish to dine in peace!" Thor bellowed in good spirits.

Loki chuckled lightly alongside him, but was unable to put away the dread he felt within his breast. His mother and Thor were easy to speak to compared to the Allfather, and he still had a lingering feeling that things were not as simple as Thor made it seem. But for now, he was easily on high spirits and could place aside such a nerve-wracking confrontation for another day. He had his brother back, and nothing could pull him away from how high on happiness that thought made him.  


	4. Chapter 4

"I will never understand you and your brother's obsession with long hair," Frigga commented, snipping at Loki's hair with her shears. Loki watched mutedly as long locks fell away from his face. "I keep telling Thor that he will soon look like a young maiden if he keeps letting it grow out, but he will not listen to a word I say. I believed he would look stunning with a cut like Fandral's." 

Loki grimaced. "With all due respect, Mother, Thor would look ridiculous with Fandral's hairstyle." 

Frigga hummed thoughtfully, mulling over the thought. In the reflection of the mirror he sat before, Loki noticed the gleam of joy in Frigga's eyes and the small smile upon her lips. Not long after his talk with Thor on the beach, Loki approached her while she was reading in the library. They spoke for a long time, and by the end of it, Frigga had tears glistening in her eyes and her arms wrapped around Loki's shoulders. Her embrace warmed his heart, and he couldn't resist hugging her in return. It was wonderful to see the mother of his heart happy once again. 

Yet, as he watched his appearance take on the innocent look he wore when he called Asgard home, he couldn't help but notice the hollow look in his eyes. It was less noticeable than before, but the look still lingered. His hurt still lingered. Late into the previous night, Loki laid awake upon his bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, rehashing the words he had spoken to his brother. A part of him wanted to believe that it was all the truth. Everything he did, he had done for Thor. Yet, the dark part of his mind reminded him that, regardless of how desperately he wished for it to be so, his motives for his actions bloomed from a much darker, more selfish, part of him. Even as he spoke his thoughts to his brother, the half-spoken lie lingered sourly upon his lips. 

"There," Frigga announced, leaning down to smooth Loki's hair back. "You look like your old self now." 

He stared at his reflection, seeing a resemblance to the man he once was, yet every time he looked at his own green eyes, he could only see the deep pool of guilt, anger and sadness that still stewed within him. His eyes still had tired, purple circles dancing beneath them. His mouth naturally held itself in a tense line. No matter where he looked, he couldn't see the man he once was within his reflection. Not anymore. He averted his eyes. 

"Thank you, Mother," he said softly, rising from his seat. 

"You're welcome, Loki," Frigga responded, lying a hand upon his arm. "What is it you plan for the day?"

"A walk, perhaps," he said. He stared distantly out towards the window in the room. "I could use some time to clear my head."

"Yes, of course," his mother said quickly, dropping her hand. "I wouldn't want to keep you from that." She began to clean up her supplies distractedly. Loki let a small sigh pass by his lips. He gently placed a hand over her fretting ones, stilling them with his slight touch.

"I will not be gone for long. Perhaps we could partake in a glass of warm milk by the hearth later tonight?" he inquired. Hopeful, glistening eyes met him as she recalled doing similar actions when Loki couldn't sleep much at night as a child. 

"I would like that very much," she said softly. She lifted her free hand to gently touch Loki's cheek. "Thank you, my child." 

Unable to produce a proper response, Loki just nodded. 

. . . . . . . . .

For most of the afternoon, Loki walked the halls of the great castle, lost in thought. He lingered in places that struck up the most vivid memories, reliving them as if they happened just the day before. He remained for a long time at the festivities hall where Thor had flipped a table in frustration after his coronation had failed. The place where it all began to spiral downhill. He stepped away from hall, walking absentmindedly down the hallways. Without realizing it, he found himself standing before a doorway, Thor's deep voice resonating from within. He considered entering the room but hesitated when a sharp feminine voice answered him. 

Sif. 

A curl of doubt settled uncomfortably within his stomach. His own family was one thing; Sif and the Warriors Three wouldn't be nearly as gracious about his return. He wouldn't doubt that the dark haired warrior Goddess pulled for his permanent incarceration. She had not bothered to hide her distrust for him throughout the years, and he had given her a legitimate reason to do so. 

Loki took a few steps backwards, intending on heading back to his room, but froze, sensing a presence behind him. He spun on his heel, warily eying his new unwanted company. The Warriors Three stood awkwardly behind him, uncertain how to proceed such a chance encounter. Usually, Loki would make an excuse to leave before things got exponentially worse, but he waited this time. Fandral shifted uncomfortably. 

"Er… Loki," he said. "Funny seeing you here…" He avoided eye contact. Loki narrowed his eyes. 

"Charmed," he said flatly. He warily took in Hogun's tense stance behind Fandral's shoulder and Volstagg's worried shifting. He wasn't sure why he bothered to linger for their responses. These were Thor's friends. They always were. It was useless worrying over how they might view him after everything that had transpired. 

"Pardon me," he said shortly, turning his back to leave. He took three measured steps before the door he previously stood before opened. 

"Friends!" Thor called out, loudly giving Volstagg a hug. "Brother!"

Loki hesitated a step, turning to look over his shoulder. Thor had a wide grin upon his face and a big hand set upon Fandral's shoulder. Sif stood silently beside him, eyebrows drawn down in distain. 

"Where are you going?" Thor asked lightheartedly. 

A small twinge of guilt shot through Loki's chest. "Elsewhere." 

"We plan to spar in the training grounds soon," Thor continued. "Join us!"

Surprise filtered across the faces of Sif and the Warriors Three. 

" _Thor_ ," Sif said shortly. The God of thunder glanced at her questioningly. Loki caught the wary looks shot his way. 

"Perhaps another time," he said quietly. 

Thor's smile fell a bit. "Are you certain?"

Loki met Sif's eyes. "Quite."

Thor let his disappointment show at bit as he dropped his hand from Fandral's shoulder. "I see," he said. "Then, I shall see you later, brother?" 

"Perhaps," Loki responded shortly. He turned heel, feeling less than wanted at the moment. A part of him longed to follow Thor to the battlefield. It had been too long since they met arms on a neutral field, and Loki was feeling a little soft from all the time he spent just walking the halls of the great castle. Yet, a part of him still couldn't reach up to face the others yet. He was coming to realize that the hardest things to do in life was to hope for forgiveness from those that once mattered most. 

He turned the corner that led back to his rooms, but slowed down a bit when he heard swift footsteps following in pursuit. He briefly considered phasing out of sight to avoid the oncoming confrontation, but yet again, he hesitated to act. 

Strong fingers dug into his shoulder, whipping him around with surprising force. The warrior Goddess forced Loki against the nearest wall with little sympathy, digging her forearm against his collarbone to keep him in place. Loki winced at the pain, but Sif's hold was unrelenting. She glared up at him. 

"You may have Thor fooled by your ' _redemption_ ' act," she growled. "But you're not fooling me. I know what you _really_ are, and I don't trust you for even a second. Step even one toe out of line and it will be your last. I swear it." She gave him a final shove before releasing him roughly, stalking away without another glance. 

Loki took a deep shaky breath, lightly touching the base of his throbbing throat. A dark chuckle bubbled up from within him, passing by his lips unbidden. His chest hurt in a darkly familiar way, a tightening that brought back memories of a painful time that he barely put into his past. He pressed his eyes closed, letting his chuckle die away. How strange it felt to actually welcome the hate aimed toward him. Hate was something he understood. Forgiveness and acceptance, on the other hand… 

Loki pushed himself away from the wall, and straightened his clothes. He calmly continued his walk back to his rooms as if nothing happened. Yet, his stomach churned uncomfortably and he paused in his steps, changing his destination. After such an encounter, he was starting to crave a bit of warm milk with a dash of forgiveness to settle the dark thoughts wandering through his mind. 


	5. Chapter 5

A soft knock at the door pulled Loki's attention away from his window. Thor lightly stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind him. He stood for a lingering moment, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness of Loki's room. 

"Brother, are you in here?" he called out. 

"Of course," Loki responded, watching as Thor picked his way across the room. 

"Why do you sit in the dark?" he inquired when he found Loki by the window. 

"It's comforting," the dark God responded distantly. He stared up at the endless sky, losing himself to the distance of the stars. Thor followed his gaze, his own mind distantly going out towards the stars of Midgard. 

"You did not leave your rooms today," Thor said after a long moment. Loki released a quiet sigh, knowing this would come up. He chose not to give Thor a reason why. His brother looked over at him when he did not respond. "Is everything alright?"

Loki considered giving him a truthful answer explaining how reluctant he still felt to this day to be seen by the people of Asgard, or how unworthy he felt to sit in the presence of his once-family. He considered explaining how he still danced the line between sanity and insanity, or how easy it would be to just allow the darkness within him take him over. But he didn't. "Everything is fine."

Thor stared at him, unconvinced. He waited for Loki to elaborate, sighing when he didn't. "Father wishes to speak with you."

Loki stilled imperceptibly, his heart lurching uncomfortably in his chest. "And he sent you to fetch me?"

"No," Thor responded softly. "I came to reassure you."

Loki looked at Thor. He kept his voice straight. "And why would I need reassurance?" 

Thor held Loki's gaze as he placed a comforting hand upon his brother's shoulder. "We all need courage to face our fears. Even when we do not ask for it," he explained. "Walk with me."

Loki searched his brother's eyes for a long moment before turning his eyes away with a small sigh. Thor was right. It was an inevitable confrontation that haunted his mind for days, and a tiny part of him was too frightened to face it alone. He took one last look out the window before standing up. He couldn't delay it any longer. 

"Alright then. Lead the way." 

Thor walked with Loki down the halls of the castle, slowing his normal pace to stay shoulder-and-shoulder with his younger brother. Loki found Thor's presence more comforting than he expected. It was a familiar feeling; one that he hadn't felt in a long time, but one that he welcomed. He matched his brother's steps, keeping his eyes at a downcast as he listened to Thor speak. It was silly conversation, just something to fill the silence, and it dwindled away as they grew closer to the Allfather's chambers.

Loki pushed away the feeling of nervousness, the desperate need to just run away and hide in the dark until it was all over, but he kept his back straight and continued forward. Despite how often his insecurities got the better of him, Loki was no coward. 

They stopped before the grandiose doors of the king's chambers, each of the two boys staring up at the elegant carvings as though it was the first time they had ever laid eyes on it. Thor gave Loki's shoulder one last squeeze of encouragement, catching his brother's gaze as their eyes met. All was said, but no words were spoken. None were needed in this moment. Loki pulled his eyes away and swallowed thickly, stepping forward to push the doors to Odin's chambers open. 

The dark God made his way into the room silently, muffling every step that he took. The door closed softly behind him. Odin's chambers were just as he remembered: tall windows peeked out to the city below; a large golden bed took up the room to his right, the Allfather's study to his left. He took a few steps toward the study, recognizing the glow of a fire. The study itself was made up of a wall of bookshelves, and a collection of chairs surrounding a table facing a grand hearth. Odin's favorite chair, a high-backed velvet armchair, was positioned before the fireside, in the same spot that Loki recalled as a child. Odin himself, stood before the grand hearth, pensively staring into the flickering flame, hands crossed behind his back. Loki swallowed the knot in his throat and took a few, audible steps into sight. Odin took a glance over his shoulder, his good eye taking in the wary appearance of his youngest son. 

"You may sit," Odin instructed, gesturing to the seat closest to him. His favorite chair. Loki didn't move. He wasn't even sure he could. The Allfather held his gaze. "Please."

The God of mischief swayed uncertainly on his feet for a moment before allowing himself to take the few measured steps towards the seat. Cautiously, he lowered himself into the seat, his back stiffly straight, and folded his hands into his lap. He was not comfortable this close to Odin. He would much rather speak with him from across the room than two paces away. 

Odin was half turned toward him, the glow of the fire dancing across the golden eye cover placed above his right eye. He stood with the regality of a king, but Loki saw a fragility to him that he had not noticed before. The lines below his good eye seemed deeper, and sag to his aging skin more prominent. Yet behind all that, there was a weariness in his gaze that seemed to be eroding at his mind. The man standing before him seemed almost like a shadow of the King he recognized as a child. The Allfather shifted slightly, but kept his eye upon the flame within the hearth.

"I was told of your venture to Midgard," he said. Loki's heart plummeted to his stomach. He knew this would come up in good time, but a small part of him had hoped it would be put off a while longer. The Allfather wasn't in the mood for small talk, it seemed. Odin turned an eye upon him. "I will give you one chance to explain yourself." 

Loki reacted in surprise to the King's offer. He had not expected such an opportunity to be given to him. A million different things came into his mind. Multiple ways that he could phrase his way into Odin's good graces, several different pleas to change the perspective of even those who had seen the events transpire. And then there was the truth, which sat in a very dark corner of his mind, reminding him that everything else that he could say would be nothing more than a bald-faced lie. His heart still felt as though it were seated within his stomach, making an unsettling feeling crawl up his spine. He opened his mouth once, twice, but not a single word came out. His silver tongue felt like lead within his mouth. 

Odin eyed him carefully. "You choose not to defend your actions?"

Loki dropped his gaze, his voice low and clear when he spoke. "Words do not change what has been done."

The Allfather stared at him silently for a moment. "No, they do not." Loki stared at the ground, unable to lift his eyes up to face Odin. 

"I do not condone your actions," the king continued. "I did not raise such a boy that would willingly slaughter hundreds of innocents in the name of power." The cold feeling was starting to settle within Loki's breast again as he listened to his exploits pass by the lips of his once-father. "I did not raise such a boy that starves for dominion over a weaker race. You were to have greatness, Loki." Odin's voice took on a wistful tone. "Why throw that all away in exchange for such a dark aspiration?"

"I was not to have greatness," Loki said sharply. " _Thor_ was to have greatness. I was just the stepping stool for his glorious ascension to power." Loki tasted the familiar hate mix with his heart-wrenching hurt as he glared up the Allfather. How _dare_ he speak of greatness when he was denied such an opportunity from the very start. 

Odin stood firm. "I never intended for Thor to be more favored than you." 

" _Of course not_ ," Loki snipped sarcastically. "You wanted me to believe that I, like him, had a chance to sit upon the throne for Asgard. But that would never be." His anger boiled within his chest, and he squeezed his shaking hands closed. "It was all a _lie_! Everything I thought I knew was a _lie_!" 

"It was _not_ a lie!" Odin shouted. "Every praise, every opportunity I placed before you was a testament to your skill and achievements! I was _proud_ to have you as my son! It eased my mind to know that I had not one, but _two_ capable sons to lead this realm to glory." 

"How can I believe that?" Loki asked. "How do you expect me to believe that after everything you kept from me _all my life_? I was always the outcast. The unloved, unwanted _second_ child. A _Frost Giant._ A monster in sheep's clothing."

"I made a mistake by not informing you of your true heritage, and I will always regret the events that transpired due to my reluctance," Odin said desperately. "But I will never again hear that you are unloved as a son of Odin. I took you away from Jotunheim for more than a hope of future peace between realms. I took you here to give you a family. I wanted to give you the chance you were denied before you were even old enough to understand what had been sacrificed."

Confusion cut through Loki's anger, cutting his sarcastic retort short. " _Why?_ " 

"Because," the Allfather said quietly, a moment of humbled nostalgia coloring his tone. "Even I cannot leave a child to suffer alone."

The phrase hung in the space between them, chilling Loki's anger. His mind bubbled with so many questions still left unanswered. His throat felt thick and his mouth dry. His breast felt heavy, like there were too many emotions churning within him, threatening to spill out with the utterance of a single word. He was so precariously close to losing himself to the hurt, the confusion, and the sadness that he tried so desperately to hide away for so long. He stared helplessly up at the Allfather, hot tears burning at the edge of his eyes.

"You should have left me that day," he whispered brokenly. "None of this would have happened. It would have been better. For all of us."

Odin closed his good eye, suddenly looking less like a king and more like a weary, old man who had seen the world crumble over and over right before his eyes. "No, Loki." 

 _"No, Loki_. _"_

The words were like a lightning strike upon Loki's heart. He gasped for breath like he was struck in the gut, a single tear falling down his cheek. It was the same phrase, the exact words, Odin had said when Loki hung from the edge of the Bridge. He remembered them with such pain, such _disappointment_. But now… Now Odin spoke the words with a soft sadness. A touch of heart-wrenching pain  barely covered by pride. A second tear dripped off Loki's chin. 

"I don't understand," he choked out. "What am I getting wrong? Why can't I understand?"

As the tears slipped down his cheeks unbidden, a strangled sob caught in his throat. He hid his face within shaking hands, trying to stifle the emotions rushing up within him. He was so _frustrated_ , so _disappointed_ in himself. Why couldn't he understand what everybody was trying to tell him? Was it so out of reach that he would _never_ understand it?

"Loki, my child, look at me," Odin pleaded softly. Loki lifted his head from his hands, red-rimmed, teary eyes staring hopelessly up at his once-father. "You are blinded by the betrayal you feel within your heart, and refuse to see the people who love you for who you are. The love is there for you to take, you only need to reach for it." He gently placed a hand on Loki's cheek, his one good eye desperately hoping that his youngest son would listen. "You _are_ loved, Loki. You always were, my son."

Loki didn't know what to say. His emotions filled in his response in the absence of his words, his carefully built barriers crumbling before him. The words Odin spoke settled within his breast, somewhere close to his heart, but his eyes continued to cry. His chest continued to heave heavy sobs as he leaned down over his knees, while a heavy, familiar hand gently rubbed his back in comfort. It felt like was too much for him, but he knew that it was exactly what he needed to hear.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Later in the night, Loki left Odin's chambers in search of his own feeling throughly exhausted, physically and emotionally. He had expected to be alone so late in the night, but he was surprised to see Thor jump up from his spot against the wall, worried blue eyes meeting his red-rimmed green ones.

"Brother, is everything alright?" he asked anxiously, taking a few steps closer to inspect Loki's obvious signs of distress. The God of mischief took in his brother's bleary appearance, the obvious sleepiness pulling at his eyes, but something warm touched upon his heart that Thor had willingly waited for him to emerge from Odin's chambers. Loki recalled a few words that the King had spoken before he had left.

" _Thank your brother, Loki,_ " he had said. _"For he insisted that you should be given another chance to be a part of our family. He never once doubted you, and reminded all of us why we should not as well._ "

"Everything is fine," Loki said carefully, meeting Thor's eyes. "Thank you… Brother." 

Thor stared at Loki, his blue eyes misting a bit. A giant grin pulled at his lips before he reached out to pull Loki tightly against him in a familiar, brotherly hug. Loki let out a sound in surprise, but allowed a smile of his own to form on his lips at the warm feeling blossoming deep within his soul. Maybe this was the feeling he had been longing for so long. What he thought he lost, he had always had. He just needed to look. 


	6. Chapter 6

Loki carefully eyed his opponent, adopting a defensive stance. His sharp mind calculated his next move as he fluidly ducked a swing aimed for his face. He danced out of reach before snapping out a strike of his own. His fist collided against hard jawbone, sending Thor flying with surprising force. The first prince of Asgard hit the training ground roughly, a cloud of dust lifting into the air. Loki shook out his throbbing hand, rubbing the knuckles tenderly as Thor sat up with a groan. 

"Damn. What is your skull made out of?" the younger prince inquired, shooting his brother a look of disbelief. Thor paused in rubbing his chin, a wide grin spreading across his face. 

"What, going soft, brother?" he joked.

Loki cracked a smirk. "You wish." He walked over to his brother, offering a hand to help him up. "But I'll be honest. I've been longing to do that since Midgard."

Thor chuckled as Loki pulled him up. "Tempt me not, brother. I will not hesitate to hit you back." 

Loki grinned. "I'd like to see you try."

Thor grinned in return and the two brothers resumed their sparring match, the occasional joyful laugh passing by their lips. They had each other wrestled to the dirty ground when Frigga interrupted them, her brow pulled down in disapproval and her hands on her hips. 

"Not only are you _both_ late for dinner, you're rolling around in the dirt--!" She made a strangled, infuriated noise in her throat. Both boys scrambled to their feet, heads tiled down in appropriate remorse. Loki attempted to brush off the dirt from his training clothes, but it was a useless endeavor. Frigga sent both of them a scathing glare. "I expect you _both_ in the dining hall no later than the next twenty minutes without a speck of dirt on your clothing, or by the Gods, you _will_ _regret it!_ " 

She stormed off out of the training grounds, positively fuming. Thor and Loki exchanged a short look before grins spread across their faces again. The laughed lightly at the familiar feeling of being scolded by their mother. Thor clapped a hand on his brother's back as they started back towards their rooms to change into proper dinner attire. 

"It feels oddly…comforting to have mother scolding us," Loki commented. 

Thor pulled a face. "To you, maybe."

Loki chuckled, his mind going a little distant. "Yes. To me."

They parted ways at their rooms. Loki attempted to brush the dirt out of hair before deciding that washing his short locks might be more effective. He laid out fresh clothing, nothing more fancy than a simple tunic and trousers, before stepping into his washroom. He ran his fingers through his wet hair a couple times under running water, and couldn't help but think of how mundane and normal everything felt now. At least, at face value. 

He knew Thor was starting to grow bored with doing the same things everyday, and ever since the construction on the Bifrost finished, he was making more trips back to Midgard. While he was gone, Loki took up the opportunity to spend more time with their mother, and occasionally, with their father. It was hard, at first, to try and bring back a relationship that he threw away when he felt betrayed, but every day made it easier, and with every passing day, the heavy darkness lingering over his heart grew lighter. 

Yet despite all the progress he had made, and the nicely mending relationships between he and his family, he couldn't for the life of him figure out why they did not punish him upon his return. It bothered him, really, that he _wasn't_ thrown into a dungeon, if not for a while so that he could think over his wrong doings and be taught a lesson for trying to rule over a realm that was not his. But when he asked his mother about it, her eyes grew sad and she gently touched his cheek.

"I believe living in the doubt that you are not loved, and have no family or home to call your own after believing all your life that you did is punishment enough, my child," she said quietly. 

Loki wasn't sure he was fully sold on that idea, but he let the topic drop. But, a part of him still felt as though he needed to be punished, and he felt it necessary to provide himself with a fitting punishment, even if his family would not. Following his talk with Odin, Loki cornered the darker side of his mind, the side of him that he knew to be the reason he let himself fall away from Asgard that day, the reason he tried so desperately to obtain the tesseract and rule over Midgard, the reason he was so reluctant to accept his family for what they truly were. He cornered that part of himself into the back of his mind where he began to construct a cage of magic separating his dark desires from the kinder, more understanding part of his mind. It was a long and arduous process that left him exhausted most days, but he was determined. He had so much to lose if that side of him took over, and he wasn't willing to lose his family once again. 

He toweled his hair dry after he was sure all the dirt had been washed out, and carefully changed into his nice clothes. He spent a few moments observing his appearance in a mirror, combing back unruly locks as they dried. Once again, his appearance seemed different to him. His shoulders seemed stronger, and he held his head up higher for the first time in a long time. That hollow look that he had grown so used to seeing in his green eyes had faded behind a much livelier expression. He felt _content_ for the first time in such a long time. A knock on his door pulled his attention back to the matter at hand. He opened the door to his room to see Thor waiting for him. His brother lifted an eyebrow.

"Why is your hair wet?"

Loki shook his head, hiding his smile. He closed the door behind them and they headed out for the dining hall. They walked in a comfortable pace, shoulder-to-shoulder in comfortable quiet. After a while, Thor placed a hand upon his brother's shoulder. Loki looked over at him questioningly. 

"You probably do not wish to hear this, brother," Thor said slowly, his expression serious. "But it is not necessary for you to try and change yourself to fit in with us. I know it has been difficult, but I would much rather have you as you are than who you believe you should be."

Loki was silent, surprised by Thor's clarity on the subject that ailed his mind. "I do not understand."

Thor stopped and turned to place his other hand on his brother's shoulder. "What I am saying is that you try too hard, Loki. We would not try so hard to bring you back home if we only wanted half of who you are. Mischievous or not, you are our family, and we will always love you."

Loki closed his eyes and let Thor's words sink into his heart. "Thank you, brother," he said softly, and met his eyes. "But as much as I appreciate your sentimental words, mother won't appreciate our tardiness for much longer." 

Thor's face fell. "You're right." He started to push Loki along down the hallway faster. Loki chuckled and met Thor's quick walk toward the dining hall, his chest feeling lighter than ever. He still had a lot to make up for, especially with the people of Asgard themselves, but he was certain that he had a good start, and that was all he could ask for. In good time, he would have to earnestly thank Thor for pulling him back from the edge and giving him his home back. But for now, he would just enjoy having his brother. 

_Fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my short Loki and Thor story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. :)


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